Just Tonight
by the-original-lovelace
Summary: Just tonight, I won't leave. I'll stay here and let you make me believe that I – that we – can be this way forever. Just tonight I'll let myself see that it could be this way, if it wasn't for me. A little Fuffy magic. Set during the end of S03. One Shot.


**Just getting back to my Fuffy lovin' roots, haha. **

**Wrote this while listening to the song 'Just Tonight' by The Pretty Reckless. It's also where I got the title. So, maybe little to it while you read. Just a friendly recommendation :D  
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**General Disclaimer:**

The characters in this story don't belong to me – though I often wish they did – but _are_ copyrighted to their respective owners so, let me make it clear that I will make _no_ profits off of _any_ of these stories. So, you know, please don't sue me.

**Personal Disclaimer:**

If you don't like _Buffy the Vampire Slayer, _Fuffy aka FaithxBuffy_,_ or girlxgirl pairings in general than read no further. You've been warned in an effort to save both your time and mine.

Oh, and please remember that there _is_ a difference between a critical critique and a flame.

So, now that all of the unpleasantness is out of the way, please enjoy _Just Tonight  
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I walk you out of the Bronze, your body pressed against mine in all the wrong ways, and though I know I said, both to you and me, that I wouldn't take advantage I just can't help myself. I'm weak and, right now, you're not strong enough to tell me no. So, when I kiss you, you don't pull away. If anything you're just as into it as I am, something that tells me all I need to know about your level of sobriety.

Your lips taste like candy and there's something in your eyes that tells me this is okay, even if we both know it's not. And, before I know it, you've backed me up against the wall and started sucking on my tongue like it's keeping you alive.

I don't know how we make it to your house but suddenly we're there and I've got you pressed hard against your front door, your hands buried in my hair. I mutter words against your lips, protestations that you silence with your kiss, though I know you wouldn't have heard them anyway; you're too drunk to hear a word I say.

I don't know how you managed to find your keys but suddenly we're inside and you say it's alright to stay; Joyce is in L.A. and you're all alone 'til tomorrow night. I can't seem to see straight let alone walk, so you pull me upstairs and into your room.

You push me back on the bed and look down at me, your eyes hazy with lust and booze, and I can't figure out how to breathe. You half-fall half-leap on top of me, pressing your lips to every inch of skin you can see and it burns but its good, so fucking good, that I take the pain without complaint.

But you're moving too slow and I know if I don't do this before your buzz wears off I'll never get the chance, so I flip you over and straddle your hips, raking my nails along your chest to assure you that I'm not leaving.

We kiss again and I barely suppress the whine building in my throat as I pull away. _I never wanna leave ya. I don't want this fer one night; I want it fer always._ The thoughts strike me suddenly and without remorse, cutting me from the inside out and making me still above you.

I come back to myself suddenly and, as though to prove I'm still me, that I'm still in control, I rip your shirt off, heedless of the condition it'll be in tomorrow. But, despite the harshness of the gesture, my hand hovers over your breast as my eyes memorize the body they've wanted to see for so long.

You're beautiful, B, inside and out, and as I lean down and press my lips to your jaw I realize that there's something inside of you that I wanna break; I wanna make you like me, because then I won't have to be good enough.

And god knows I wanna be good enough for you.

I continue downward, my tongue leaving a sticky-wet trail down your chest even as my fingers fumble to undo your belt. And, though I know I shouldn't, I can't stop myself from sliding my hand into your jeans and burying my fingers inside of you anymore than I can stop myself from breathing.

You writhe against me; your shock evident in your suddenly wide eyes but there's pleasure there and desire, so I know you like this, want it, want me, despite knowing that you'd deny it if I brought it up tomorrow.

I plunge into you, faster and faster, forcing your body to catch up to the hectic rhythm I'm setting, and the feel of your muscles spasming around me is by far the sweetest thing in the world.

"Cum fer me, B," I murmur against your throat, my teeth nipping along your pulse in time to the movements of your hips.

It's all the encouragement you need.

You fall hard, your breath escaping in a moan that soaks my leathers near through, thrashing against me as you spiral over the edge. I hold you tight, wishing for all I'm worth that this was as real for you as it is for me, before I pull out slowly and kiss you.

It's not like before. This kiss is soft and timid, the only way I can think to make you understand that I'm not drunk and – even if you will – I won't ever regret this. And when I pull away I catch sight of the moon reflecting in your eyes and I know that you heard my declaration as surely as if I'd spoken it aloud.

I see all that could be, if I wasn't the way I am, and for a moment I let myself think about how easy it would be to lay in your arms for the rest of forever and forget about all of the evil I've done and still have to do.

And I'm more than a little surprised at how good it feels.

I pull away then, the feel of you suddenly suffocating, and search the floor for my jacket, the only piece of clothing I lost during our exchange. I spot it, splayed on your desk, and even as I move to retrieve it your hand wraps around my wrist.

"Faith?"

It's only one word but, unlike all the others you've spoken since I got you to agree to try and match drinks with me, it isn't slurred and I know that you're level of drunkenness is rapidly approaching zero; Slayer metabolism is a wondrous thing.

I don't turn back to look at you; I can't. I've never been so afraid before, never had a reason to be. _My god, blondie, what've I done ta ya? _I took advantage of you and, whatever you decide to do to me, I know I deserve it. I'm ready to take whatever you want to give me. _An' what've ya do ta me?_

"Stay,"

I blink. It wasn't what I expected; it was far worse a punishment. That one word, spoken barely above a whisper, makes my body tense even as my heart begins pumping the fear-and-adrenaline cocktail you've inspired through my bloodstream.

The voices in my head start screaming so loudly that I'm not sure which one to listen to. One tells me to rip away from you, knowing that this can't last no matter how I want it to. But another, the part of me I didn't even know I had until I met you that first time, begs me to hear all the words you're not saying.

So, finally, after what feels like forever, I nod and your hand falls from my wrist as I turn back to you.

You don't say another word; you just open your arms and, as I fall into them, I can't help but feel like I've come home.

So, just for tonight, I won't leave. I'll stay here and let you make me believe that I – that _we_ – can be this way forever. Just tonight I'll let myself see that it could be this way, if it wasn't for me.

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**R&R if you please (or if you don't please)**


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